


a chance to cope

by ivelostmyspectacles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 18:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15690618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles
Summary: In the aftermath of the assassination attempt, they both struggle to cope.[a sequel toataraxia, but it's not completely necessary to have read the first]





	a chance to cope

Someone set a folder down too loudly, and the noise almost made Ignis’s breath stall in his throat. Or perhaps it did, anyway; an apology was given and Ignis smiled it off, merely because he was much more interested in trying to get his body to lose the tension it had suddenly taken up.

Ridiculous _._

 

 

The blood stains had long been cleaned, but Ignis found himself stalling in the hallway nonetheless. His eyes lingered overlong, looking for something that wasn’t there. He couldn’t help himself. The memory was too fresh, and too deep: darting in front of Noct to defend from the attack, injuries to his arms and the stricken look on Noctis’s face. The blood soaking into fabric when Noct had warped in to help for himself, and the panic on Ignis’s part that had come with it.

“Mister Scientia?”

He forced himself to look away from the carpet. He hadn’t been paying attention. “I apologize– seems my mind was wandering. Could you repeat that, please?”

Ridiculous.

Understandable.

 

 

A car backfired. Ignis’s hand flew to the prince’s shoulder, ready to hustle him away in a state of ever growing tension, to pull him closer in order to shield him if need be. It didn’t, of course, and it took very little time for him to accept that. But the move was already made, anxiety given form in a way that made him want to grind his teeth together– if only he hadn’t noticed how Noctis had flinched towards him, too.

Ignis wasn’t the only one.

He wasn’t certain it made him feel much better.

“Got everything, Noct?” he asked, keeping his voice light. He’d pretend that hadn’t just happened, and that he wasn’t coiled so tightly that it felt like he was about to snap.

“Yeah… yeah,” Noct mumbled. “Think so.”

“Let’s head home, then,” Ignis said, and noticed his hands were still shaking. He curled them into fists at his side, and then forced himself to relax again.

Ridiculous.

Understandable.

Still ridiculous.

 

 

It was the third time in a week he’d woken up in a cold sweat, muted terror rushing through his veins. Each time, he was immediately upright, grasping for things that weren’t there, looking for Noct, _who wasn’t there,_ unable to breathe and in mental agony.

The same nightmare, over and over. Being unable to get Noctis to safety, watching him be shot and bleed out right in front of him. How many times could he dream about the same thing? How many times did he need to watch Noct _die?_

Swallowing a groan, Ignis shoved his hair out of his eyes, wiping the sweat away with a pass of the back of his hand. Then he put his face in his hands instead, slumping forward to brace his elbows on his knees.

 _Ridiculous,_ just utterly _ridiculous._

 

 

“Can you stay over tonight?” Noctis blurted, and Ignis paused in reaching for his shoes. “I just… I haven’t been… sleeping, not well, anyway, and I thought… if you were around…”

Oh, the definitive proof that Noct was just as affected by the assassination attempt as Ignis was. Of course he was. He’d known that for some time, able to see the signs that Ignis hoped he wasn’t exhibiting himself. But just as Noct never said anything, neither had Ignis. Probably unwise, that, but then, he wasn’t in any position to be giving advice.

“… of course, Noct.” He nudged his shoes further out of the doorway, and set his bag back onto the cabinet. “If you weren’t sleeping well, you could have told me.”

“Yeah, like you’ve told me your problems, either.”

Every moment in the past few weeks come back to haunt him. Ignis grimaced. He hadn’t been able to help it; every second he wasn’t with Noct was spent worrying about him, wondering if he was safe, what would happen if he wasn’t there to protect him. The latter was ludicrous in itself, of course, because he _knew_ Noct could take care of himself. But he couldn’t help it, just as he couldn’t help the thought that he never wanted to let Noct out of his sight.

He did, of course; Noctis needed to be afforded his freedom and routine was going to help establish normalcy for all of them again, but it didn’t change the fact. Ignis didn’t _want_ to leave his side, but he allowed him his privacy. It wasn’t fair to Noct if he didn’t, and it wasn’t fair to himself, either.

Damned if that wasn’t difficult though, he thought, and turned a wan smile on the prince. “I hope you don’t object to dreadfully boring company, then. I’m drowning in paperwork to finish, if you don’t mind me working from here.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m probably just gonna go to bed now, anyway.”

Ignis nodded. “You need anything first?”

A shake of his head, and Noct waved a hand as he turned for the hall. “Nah, I’m good. Make yourself at home?”

“Of course, Noct.” His smile was a little more genuine, a little more warm this time. Noct’s presence always did that for him. It was impossible not to be content when he looked at him that way. Their illusion of safety might have been shattered, but at least he trusted in his ability to keep him safe. That was good enough for him. “Have a nice night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

 

It was relative, he supposed, when he stayed up to a godsawful hour working on financial reports instead of sleeping, to try and have a _good night._ He was having a slight migraine, actually, eyebrows drawn together as he squinted at the little black numbers in front of him.

It was made worse when a cry came from the bedroom, chilling in a way that took the tattered remains of his nerves and sent them finally snapping in two. He went flying away from the table, paperwork forgotten. Probably scattered, but he couldn’t care; he was on overdrive these days, these past few weeks. His only thought was _getting to Noct._

“Noct??” He didn’t hesitate, merely threw open the bedroom door to find the prince sitting upright in his bed, still half tangled with the blankets and looking… looking… well, Ignis wasn’t certain there were words. Traumatized, maybe. He’d flinched when Ignis had burst in. “Apologies, you…” _scared me._ He didn’t say. “… are you alright?” he said instead, lowering his voice. There was no danger. Not physically, anyway.

“I– y–yeah.” Even from the distance, he could see him trembling. “Just a… just the same dream. Oh _shit…_ ” He slumped over, putting his face in his hands. “When does this _stop…”_

 _I wonder._ There was no answer. He had no way to make this better, no words and no cure-all for coping. He didn’t think he was managing well himself, but listening to Noct’s voice crack on that question, and how dangerously close to tears he sounded made the bruised edges of Ignis’s heart throb all over again. He couldn't fix it. He couldn’t fix it, and that hurt almost worse than having to deal with it himself.

He’d take it _all_ on himself, if only he could.

He hesitated in the doorway for only a moment longer. “Here.” Probably, this was what Noct had been trying to ask for earlier. Something Ignis should have inferred, but everything about this was tense and uncomfortable, and he didn’t intend to overstep his bounds. But Noct needed him. And he needed Noct. And he wanted nothing more than to slide into bed next to him and draw him into his arms, so, for now, that was what he was going to do.

“Come here,” he said, and set his glasses aside.

He’d barely slipped into bed before Noct crowded in, tucking himself up against Ignis’s chest and burying his face into his shirt. A fistful of the fabric held tight, and Ignis carefully wrapped his arms around him to hold him close.

“I’m so sorry, Noct, I can’t fix this…” He allowed himself to brush his lips against his hair, and pretended he couldn’t feel Noct tremble. He pretended he wasn’t shaking himself. “I don’t know how to make it better.”

“You saved my life, don’t think it gets any better than that,” Noctis said. His voice was muffled by his shirt. Ignis had to strain to hear, and it didn’t necessarily reassure him, anyway.

“I’m not sure I _saved your life,_ ” he mumbled, and then raised his voice. “That asides, it doesn’t help _now.”_

Noct shrugged, very slightly, and Ignis fell silent. He didn’t know what else to say, and false reassurance felt… increasingly hypocritical.

“We’ll get through, Noct,” he said instead. Noctis’s hands tightened around Ignis’s shirt, and he made to pull him in closer. “A slow process, perhaps but you are the strongest person I know.” Noct made a garbled noise, almost skeptical. Wavering. Ignis pushed on. “No, you are. However… it’s alright not to be as well, Noct. I’m here if you need me. I’ll catch you when you fall.”

Now the garbled noise was a laugh. Noct still didn’t pull away. “You always do, Specs… but what about you, huh…? Same goes for you…”

“I…” _don’t want to burden you with my troubles, don’t want to share that I’ve been dreaming of your death, can’t articulate how important you are to me and the mere thought of you being hurt_ terrifies _me._ Ignis breathed out, pressing a single kiss atop Noctis’s head. “… just wish to be near you, Noct. So long as I know you’re safe.” It was the most he was going to admit right now. All he was comfortable with admitting right now. He couldn’t burden Noctis further, he couldn’t.

“I want you here, too,” Noct murmured. “So just… just stay… awhile? I know you worry about people finding out you when you spend the night, but… just for now? I don’t care what the tabloids say, I just… want _you.”_

“Of course.” How could he resist him when he asked so plainly? How could he resist when, for the first time since the attempt on the Caelum’s lives, Ignis felt he could truly, finally relax? Noct was tucked into his arms, safe and warm. That was all that mattered. “Of course, Noct… I want you, too,” he murmured, whispered the words he still barely dared to say into Noctis’s hair.

“Good,” Noctis mumbled. “Just… thanks, Iggy. For all of it.”

“Daresay you’re helping me as much as I’m helping you,” Ignis said quietly, and that was the closest he was going to get to verbally admitting his inner turmoil right now.

“I’d like that, I think… here for you, too…”

“Yes… thank you, Noct.” Another brush of his lips against his hair, and melting a little bit into his warmth. “Sleep now, if you can. Alright?”

Noct inclined his head slightly, a tiny nod. He stayed silent, though, and Ignis shifted to slip his fingers into his hair in a plan to try and soothe him until he slept. Hopefully, until they both slept. The Gods knew they could use it.

It still wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe _this_ would help more than anything either of them had tried.

Ignis, blissfully comfortable for the first time in weeks, liked to believe it would.

**Author's Note:**

> coping and lack thereof... they both have nightmares for _ages_ after this
> 
> I picture them as being in a relationship at this point, but it's complicated... they both know Noct's to be married for the sake of the kingdom and Ignis particularly feels guilty about that, but he also loves him more than his own life... so they're so _stiff_ in their interactions that go past friendship, and esp considering this is in between BH and canon


End file.
